Vanilla Milk
by krystal-dolphin
Summary: A single chance meeting at a little cafe, builds a beautiful friendship for life.


* * *

It was the coldest day of the many that'd passed. Any lower, and the temperature would be into negative values.

A young lady named Marron scurried through the streets of Tennyson, pulling her woolly hat way below her ears as she did. She had just finished work, and was headed towards a café that she stopped at every day. The night was dark; it was hard to make out anything besides the silhouettes of people against the marble white buildings that lined one side of the road. There were no cars out that night, from what Marron could make out. A single flake of snow landed on the bridge of her nose, causing her to look up into the velvet sky.

"Snow!" she whispered, clinging on to her jacket fronts and pressing them together to prevent heat from escaping. She tried to spot the next snowflake, scanning her eyes across the immediate area of vast sky, but never found it. She shrugged, carrying on towards the café. The hint of snow had been a distraction, but the cold of the night just would not be overruled.

"Ahmed, the usual!" she haughtily sighed as she scampered into the warm room. There wasn't much to occupy the medium sized space. Having the door at the bottom right corner of the shop, it had a counter at the back, a row of four tables against the wall opposite to the front door; a small, rusty looking jukebox on the right upon entering, and the full-sized window, which was opposite the counter, had a small table and two chairs at either side beside it.

"Right with you, Mar-a." the short man at the back of the room called out back to her. "Late today, no? It's half hour after like normal." he spoke with a middle-eastern accent. He was making the beverage himself, from the looks of him having just boiled a pan of water. He placed a lid on the saucepan, wiped his hand on a hand towel, and turned to the counter. He was about to repeat his words with doubt that Marron heard them at all, but she cut in.

"Yeah, overtime." she started. "You know, now that it's Christmas season and all, I'm gonna be buying more presents than my bank account can handle. I thought I'd give it a little help this year." she took off her hat and sat down at the window table. She stayed still for a while to get settled in, and then crossed her right leg over the left.

Ahmed chuckled. "I understand. At least you have people to give presents to, see? My wife and kid are both in another country, not here. It gets difficult around the festive seasons for me. I have to keep try not to get emotional. Otherwise I would be very miserable, you understand."

Marron smiled at the sound of his words. She looked up at him with a questioning expression. "Hey Ahmed, how comes you've been living here for ten years and you still have such a strong accent?" she said, more thinking loudly. She knew Ahmed wouldn't mind her saying so whereas another person might have gotten offended by her question.

"Ah, I guess I'm patriotic you could say" he started, really considering the question in detail. "Plus, it reminds me much of home. I think it is wonderful. You are jealous, Marron, because you cannot," he put on an extremely silly accent, "Shpeak like an Indian."

To that statement they both burst out laughing. They were different in age but both at that moment felt beneficially young.

They were interrupted by the sound of wind chimes as someone walked in. The person on entering looked up at the musical device and seemed to admire it greatly. Marron eagerly eyed the back of his head as she noticed on it was a bobbled hat, coloured with the brightest neon one could see. After a moment of awe, he turned his face so that it was visible to both the other people in the room. His eyes were lit up in a display of friendliness.

"Hello, not too late, am I?"

Ahmed tended to the water that had just rounded to the boil. "Not at all, friend. What will you have? But make it quick though, I won't be here all night."

A smile sparked on the young man's face, emphasising all his features. "A cup of tea and two fried eggs on toast, please. It's cold out, and the wife just won't budge."

"I wish I could relate." Ahmed replied with a smile. "But my wife is overseas."

"Ahmed, you say it so nonchalantly. People would think you were almost glad." Marron interjected. The newcomer acknowledged her participation in the conversation and looked at her for a moment. She smiled politely at him.

"May I sit with you?" he softly asked.

"It was an arranged marriage. That says it all!"

Marron smiled, half towards Ahmed's distant comment and half towards the man, providing a sign of hospitality. "Of course."

The man took a moment to remove his large coat and neon hat, placing them on the seat behind him. He landed on the seat opposite Marron with a loud sigh. "It is Iceland out there." he stated. "One minute you're enjoying the rays of summer, and the next seems like the world has turned into one giant igloo."

Marron nodded in agreement. "I know. I can't actually feel my feet right now, and before I got here I wasn't even walking for that long. Five minutes at the most."

For the first time, the man smiled at Marron, causing the dimples in his right cheek to make an appearance. His shiny lavender hair shone under the artificial lighting of the café, turning a bright yellow where the light hit it. His skin was an almost brown colour; dark olive. It seemed to compliment the colour of his hair falling randomly on his face.

"What's your name, Miss?" he asked still smiling but with curious eyes, slightly squinted in concentration. "I have a feeling that I've known you before."

Marron stared at him, seeing if his face was a familiar one. "I don't think so, I don't recognise you. In any case, I'm Marron." She held out her hand, inviting him.

"Enchanté." he declared as he took it and gave a firm shake. "My name is Mr. Briefs, President, or just Trunks." he introduced himself with a polite smile. "So what's your story, Marron? What brings you to this old tavern in the dead of the night on a cold winter's day?"

"She is hungry." Ahmed interrupted. "And here is your tea and your vanilla milk."

There was an element of caution in Ahmed's voice almost. Aside, he gave Trunks a glare that warned him not to get too friendly. "Although the marriage is arranged." Ahmed started, bringing up another topic. "I love my wife," he emphasised the word 'wife' whilst looking at Trunks, "dearly."

A short while passed in which Marron took a sip of her vanilla milk and Ahmed and Trunks spent with their eyes locked together in silence.

But the mood was lightened when Trunks laughed heartily. "Hey, don't worry, I wasn't trying to hit on you, Marron." he looked up to the older man. "I was just making conversation, you know? It's much better than silence as I've come to discover through many situations before."

Marron raised both her eyebrows for a split of a second and then lowered one. "Did I miss something here?" she asked, looking pretty much clueless.

"Never mind about that." Trunks said, shaking his head. "Say, what's that you're drinking, Miss? It looks really fulfilling. It might be what I've been looking for all my life."

Marron could not help but chuckle loudly at Trunk's remark. "It's vanilla milk. I've been drinking it every day for a whole year now since Ahmed," she signalled in the direction of the shop owner with her eyes, "introduced it to me. He's a great one with inventions, I've got to admit. Until last week, I'd never heard of crispy fried Mars bar before."

A puzzled expression cast itself upon Trunks's face, clearly displaying his confusion. Ahmed neared them again, with a large plate in tow. "Here, sir, two eggs on toast. Enjoy."

"Do you live around here?" Marron asked Trunks as he pushed a mouthful of food into his mouth. "I haven't seen you at this café before, and I should know."

Trunks chewed on his food, looking as though it was the best thing he'd ever tasted. "Well, I don't get to walk around town much, that's why. I work for a big firm in the city, practically from day 'til night, and it's rare that I get a chance to just loiter- or litter, whichever you prefer- the streets with my presence."

Marron raised a hand to support her cheek as she leaned on it, a subconscious sign of interest. "So what happened today?"

"I got sacked."

Marron's elbow almost gave way as soon as Trunks casually announced his misfortune.

However, she felt a strong urge to laugh. And his attitude towards it wasn't helping either. She would expect a man to be looking downcast and miserable if he'd been sacked. Perhaps he didn't like his job?

"You don't look too sad about it. Didn't you like your job?" she asked, curious.

"Yeah, I liked it- a lot, but there's no point in looking sad. Life goes on, I'll find another job; I'll get by."

"What about your wife, does she work?"

Trunks smirked gleefully. "No, he doesn't. And by the way, sorry for misleading you but I don't have a wife." he glanced over to Ahmed, having said the last words of his sentence louder than the rest, and laughed openly. "He's, er, my best friend, but I refer to him as the wife due to the frequency of his nagging."

Marron rolled her eyes. "So us women are all naggers now, are we?" she asked coyly, with a slight smirk.

With the sigh, the man shook his head. "That's exactly what he said to me when we first met."

Once again, Marron gifted the situation with a genuine laugh. This man was turning out to be quite entertaining, she thought. As the laughter died down, a small silence lingered in the air as Trunks carried on eating, nearly finished. "Still, I suppose she, sorry, he, nags you for a reason?" she asked, deliberately presenting a question that would evoke a reply other than 'yes' or 'no'.

"Oh, come on. So what if I've forgotten the colour of my carpet, again?"

This drew a wry smile from Marron. This young man was endearing, she thought. Only having known him for all of fifteen minutes, Marron had already latched on to his zest for life. He was an obvious optimist, and genuine too.

She exhaled lightly and turned her head to look at the clock on the wall behind the counter. "Ah, eight o' clock. I'm going to leave now." she declared as she picked up her hat, and finished off her vanilla milk. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Trunks. I hope we'll meet again soon." she said, giving him a light pat on his shoulder. "See you, Ahmed. Thanks!" she called to the man sitting at the counter who had just recently turned on a mini television and placed it on the desktop. He seemed so engaged in whatever program he was watching that he didn't even look up when saying goodbye.

"Wait," Trunks said after her.

Marron turned to look at him, one hand already on the door. "Yeah?"

"It's crispy fried Mars bar, right?"

Marron smiled, and nodded. She noticed that he was about to say something else, but seemed hesitant.

"Can I... you... tomorrow?" Trunks drank his tea to start afresh. "Tomorrow, same time, same place?" he finally proposed.

With a glint in her eyes and a small smile, before leaving, she uttered, "We'll see."

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Author's Note- Thank you for reading, I appreciate your comments.


End file.
